Growing on Me
by Nuwanda
Summary: Memories of the friend that got away and the annoying boy who just wouldn’t stay away. The story behind Sirius Black and his many relationships: with James Potter, with Severus Snape, and with the one boy who he just couldn’t help but love.


**A/N:** Sooooo, I'm back. Of course! What did you expect?! And I have another HP fic! WAHOO! I mean, seriously! It took me so long to get any inspiration to write any HP fics, so I'm just thankful that my writer's block dam has broken and the river of ideas is flowing steadily forth. Plus I just love Sirius. Heart Sirius. Heart heart Sirius. Heart heart. Ahem. Okay. Enough of that.

**PAIRING:** Eventually, Sirius/Remus, but with a little bit of Sirius/Snape. I mean, c'mon! There has to be SOME reason behind their absolute hatred of each other! I don't believe you hate someone immediately on sight, and I don't believe that Snape is evil. In fact, Sirius himself kinda reminds me of Draco sometimes, so I wouldn't be surprised if Snape and he had initially gotten on splendidly. So that's what'll be happening here. But I'm giving away the whole story, so I'll shut up now.

**SUMMARY:** The memories were so strong and familiar…memories of the father figure he lost, the friends he gained, that one friend that got away…and that one annoying boy who just wouldn't_ stay_ away. The story behind Sirius Black and his many relationships: with James Potter, with Severus Snape, and with the one boy who he just couldn't help but love.

**DISCLAIMER: **I own no part of Harry Potter, most specifically not Sirius, James, Remus, or Snape. I do not own either the Darkness or their lyrics for "Growing on Me." I also do not own any porn, though I think that's actually quite a good thing…

**DEDICATION:** Hmm…this one goes to Nikki…b/c I don't dedicate enough fics to Nikki…and she's my favorite reviewer, because she's been there reviewing my fics since the first one I posted, and she reviews them all and she reviews them so WELL! tons of cookies for Nikki You'll always and forever be my library buddy! I miss our Joey moments!

"Growing on Me"

I can't get rid of you

I don't know what to do

I don't even know who is growing on who

'Cos everywhere I go you're there

I can't get you out of my hair

I can't pretend that I don't care - it's not fair 

I'm (being) punished for all my offences

I wanna touch you but I'm afraid of the consequences

I wanna banish you from whence you came

But you're part of me now

And I've only got myself to blame 

You're really growing on me

(Or am I growing on you?)

You're really growing on me

(Or am I growing on you?)

Any fool can see 

Sleeping in an empty bed

Can't get you off my head

I won't have a life until you're dead

Yes, you heard what I said 

I wanna shake you off but you just won't go

You're all over me but I don't want anyone to know

That you're attached to me, that's how you've grown

Won't you leave me, leave me alone 

You're really growing on me

(Or am I growing on you?)

You're really growing on me

(Or am I growing on you?)

Any fool can see 

You're really growing on me

(Or am I growing on you?)

You're really growing on me 

…….(Or am I growing on you?) 

It was early in the morning at the train station, and still it was a crowded seething mass of bodies. A young boy stood off to one side, unnoticed by all, staring at the train with a look of complete excitement in his eyes. His dark brown hair fell down to that strange half-way length, past his ears but not quite to his shoulders, bits of it uneven and looking as though it could use a good cutting. As he stared at the train, a strand of hair fell in his eyes and he shoved it impatiently behind his ear, his black eyes clouding with irritation for only a second before filling once again with that look of excitement. His eyes were really quite extraordinary, especially considering his young age (for he couldn't be more than eleven). As black as onyx and drowning pool deep, they looked as though they held huge secrets. The eyes had a beauty not often seen in children, a look that one acquired through the years, yet Sirius had it now. His clothing was plainly quite pricey and he was obviously uncomfortable wearing it; he tugged at his collar impatiently and fussed with the Hogwarts robes that he was already wearing.

Taking a deep breath, he looked around him at all the children already filing swiftly onto the train. The train station was a hustling, bustling commotion of people and luggage, of animals squawking and whining and children crying. It would be impossible for anyone to pick out that single person they were looking for through all of the commotion. It was easy to blend into the crowd, and that was the way that Sirius liked it. At home, he was often the center of attention…too often, and always for the wrong reasons. Sirius placed a hand on his cheek, where he could still feel the last bruise, though the mark was no longer visible. He took another deep breath and rolled his shoulders one at a time and then together, trying to loosen out the deep, tangled knots in his back, right between his shoulder blades. Just knowing that she was nearby made him tense…

"Boy!"

Sirius' back tightened immediately as he listened to the footsteps coming closer and closer behind him; he slowly let out the breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding since his mother had spoken.

"BOY!"

Sirius turned slowly, rotating right where he stood, and looked up into his mother's dark eyes, practically a mirror of his own, had they not been filled with such hatred and malice. The woman could have been rather pretty, had she not simply embodied evil. Her dark hair fell past her shoulders and her clothing looked as expensive as those her son was wearing. The major difference was that she looked completely at home in her clothing, whereas Sirius looked so uncomfortable, and twitched and adjusted his clothing so much that it looked as though it didn't fit him quite right. She fit her clothing and her stance finished off the entire look: she was haughty, rich, beautiful, and- above all- _powerful_…and she knew it.

"Boy," she said yet again, "take your trunks." And with a flick of her wand, Sirius' trunks appeared out of thin air, the large one falling right on his foot and the smaller one hitting him square in the chest, sending him reeling backwards flat onto his rear end. Several girls nearby, who had been blatantly staring at Sirius' good looks, giggled madly at the sight of him flat on his ass in the train station. The woman sighed, exasperated, and Sirius glared balefully up at her. "Are you completely incompetent, Sirius?"

He scowled. "Maybe if you hadn't chucked it at me," he shot back.

"Don't blame me for your complete ineptness, Sirius," she continued, completely brushing off everything her son said or did, as always. "James, if you would…"

James, the servant, leaned forwards and, grabbing Sirius' collar, hauled the boy unceremoniously to his feet. Sirius dropped the trunk, surprised at the sudden change in position, and James caught it before it too could fall on Sirius' foot. Sirius smiled up at him. "Thanks, James." The man grinned back, giving Sirius a sly wink when the evil mother from hell wasn't looking.

Sirius couldn't help but smile. James was one of the few people he actually cared for. He never knew his father; the man had died when he was still very young, but he had never gotten a good impression of his father from what he had heard…the bastard sounded just as evil as his witch of a mother. He had no grandparents, as far as he knew, not any that were alive, anyway. Lots of people visited on almost every night of the week, but none of them were worth paying attention to. He had no friends his own age…sure, the visitors often brought their children with them, but the kids were no better than the parents. James was the only person he really cared for. James was always there for him: to repair anything he had broken, for starters. Sirius couldn't count the number of times he had gone to James, panicked, after he had broken some heirloom of his mothers, only to have the man calm him down and repair the broken item before the mistress even knew about it. James would fix any cut or wound that Sirius incurred while out playing or (more often than not) that his mother gave him during one of her many fits of rage. James would visit him in his room with a plate of fresh baked cookies and some tea just for the two of them, and they would sit and talk for hours. Yes, he was going to miss James very much indeed.

The train whistle sounded, pulling Sirius out of his reverie. "Well, you'd best be going then, boy." Sirius' mother fixed her up do though not a single hair was out of place and she knew it. "You'd better get on." She bent over so that she was face to face with her son, one hand on each shoulder. To anyone else it must have looked like a loving gesture, but Sirius knew it for what it was, and he didn't have long to wait before his guess was proven. Her eyes flashed with lightening and, in a voice dropped to a low hiss, she spoke up. "You had better not disgrace me, Sirius. Your father and I always knew you'd turn out to be a big disappointment…and that obviously happened. But that doesn't mean you're a complete screw-up…you don't _have_ to be. So you had better think about what really matters and you had _better_ get into Slytherin…and then do nothing that will disgrace me, or I'll make your life miserable."

"Yes, mother," Sirius said, automatically. Her eyes narrowed at his dutiful tone of voice (something she wasn't used to getting from Sirius), but she released him and straightened up.

"Very well…go on, take your stuff and get on the train."

Obediently, Sirius turned to go, picking up his small trunk and taking the handle of the larger one. Unfortunately, as he tugged on it, the trunk went nowhere. His mother rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Help him, will you, James?"

"Very well, mistress." James lifted the heavy trunk as though it were nothing to him. Walking to the train, James handed it off to one of the attendants, who loaded it on and then took the smaller trunk and loaded that too. James turned to Sirius, who was suddenly looking very crestfallen. "Ready for Hogwarts, Master Sirius?"

Sirius forced a smile. "Yeah, I guess," he mumbled. James cocked his head to one side, puzzled at Sirius' sudden lack of enthusiasm. Placing one hand beneath Sirius' chin, he tilted Sirius' face up so he could look the boy in the eyes. He was surprised to see that the small boy's eyes were filled with tears.

"My word, what's wrong, Sirius?"

A moment or two passed before Sirius could get the words out. "I'm….I'm going to miss you, James."

A smile spread across James' face and he pulled Sirius into a tight hug. "Don't worry, Sirius…I'm not going anywhere." He held the boy out at arm's length. "You can write to me every day, and I'll write back just as quickly."

Sirius sniffled. "Promise?"

James smiled. "Promise."

A small smiled tugged at the corners of Sirius' mouth, and he threw himself into James' arms with much more energy than he had before, hugging the man with all he had. "I will," he declared, pulling away. "I'll write _every day_!"

James' smile widened. "So, I guess I need to ask you again." Sirius waited expectantly, puzzled look on his face. "You ready for Hogwarts, Master Sirius?"

A grin spread across Sirius' face. "HELL yes! The question is, is Hogwarts ready for _me_?!"

James threw back his head and laughed. "You tell 'em, Sirius!"

The train whistle sounded again, and James gave Sirius one last hug, picking the small boy up around the waist and swinging him in a circle before setting him on the train steps. "See you in a few months, Sirius!"

"Yup! See you soon!"

And as the train pulled out of sight, Sirius waved for all he was worth, leaning forwards off the step, one hand clinging to the safety bar as a train attendant clung to his belt, afraid for Sirius' safety as he hung so far off the train it looked as though he would fall.

"Give 'em hell, Sirius!" James called after the train. "Give 'em hell!"

_Give them hell, huh? _Sirius thought as he watched James' figure shrinking into the distance. _I'll try, James. I'll sure try._

tbc


End file.
